Aviophobia
by DeviantAccumulation
Summary: "Aviophobia is the term used to define an irrational fear of flying. Aviophobic symptoms can be mental, emotional and physical. The anxiety and fear can go from mild feelings of apprehension to a full-blown panic attack." - Trigger Warning for Panic Attack


**Huge trigger warning for fear of flight and graphic description of a panic attack.**

"Can I get you anything else, sir?" the stewardess asked, putting the glass of water, sponge and gauze bandage on the table, carefully maintaining her distance to Bond.

"No, thank you, that would be everything," he answered politely with a long-practiced fake-friendly smile on his face, though the stewardess didn't look any less anxious, her gaze flickering repeatedly to Q, before she turned around and left the cabin.

James sighed. It was never good to attract too much attention, and having an unconscious, bleeding co-passenger was definitely not the way to go.

James took the soft sponge, let it soak with warm water and started to carefully clean the blood out of Q's mob of hair. It was a head wound, so there was quite a lot of it, though the wound itself was pretty harmless. In the worst case Q might have gotten a concussion, but the chances weren't very high.

By now it had been half an hour since they completed the mission. Half an hour since the remaining members of the drug cartel, stationed in Berlin, Germany, had decided that even though they had completely destroyed their organisation, they would still have their revenge on Q and James.

Which ended with a lot of shooting, a chase, and Q hitting his head in a moment of bad luck (which seemed to follow James constantly).

From there on everything had gotten quite complicated and in the end he had to ring someone Berlin who still owed him a favour and owned a private plane, considering that they really couldn't wait for the next train to England (and him having to haul an unconscious Q through the train station would attract even more unwanted attention).

James had gotten out most of the blood of his hair when Q's eyes opened.

"Hey there, sleeping beauty," James said, smirking as Q groaned and squeezed his eyes shut against the light.

"How are you feeling?" he asked more seriously.

"Impressive headache," Q answered without opening his eyes. "Don't think I have a concussion though."

James gave a relieved nod.

"Anything major happening when I was out cold?"

"I had to drag your ass half way through Berlin and got caught by a speed camerawith someone else's car. Oh, and then there was the whole thing about angry people trying to shoot us."

Q opened his eyes to blink blearily at James. "So we managed to outdistancethem?" he asked.

"It's... a work in progress," James admitted, trying not to let the nervousness show.

Q did notice it nonetheless and looked around, eyes scanning his surrounding more and more frantically.

"Are we on a plane?" he whispered nearly inaudible.

"Yes, yes we are."

Q's head snapped around, wide eyes focussing on James.

"Look, I know you are scared of flying, but this is the only way we can outdistancethem, there isn't any other alternative, so I have to ask you to get throughthis, okay?"

"I understand, really, but-" In that moment the engines came roaring to life and Q flinched violently in his seat.

"It's not that simple," he pressed out, eyes screwing shut, hand clenching down on the sides of his head, covering his ears, trying to block out the sound of the turbines, the feeling of the plane speeding up and leaving the ground, the narrow_, _restrictivespace in the cabin, the tiny windows-

"Q, Q look at me," he heard James' voice through the haze_._

The agent knelt in front of him, looking up with concerned eyes, one of his hands rubbing soothing patterns on his leg.

Q frantically shook his head, keeping his eyes tightly closed, his whole body trembling, every fibre of his being tense with fear.

James reached up with the other hand, laying it gently against Q's cheek in a comforting gesture.

Q snapped, hitting and kicking at James everywhere he could, pushing him away before curling up onhimself, legs drawn to his chest, head in his hands.

James had fallen on his back, faint pain in the places where Q had managed to hit him.

He could hear Q taking in sharp, short breaths, the pattern too fast and irregular to be natural. Unsure how to react to the situation he crept closer, hands hovering centimetres above Q's legs. Q let out a muffled sob and the trembling became more pronounced.

'Seizure,' James' mind supplied and in one fast movement he pinned the smaller man's body underneath his as Q's limbs started to shake uncontrollably. Q let out a strangled cry, his hands clawing at James' back and shoulders. James held tight onto him as fingers dug into his jacket, tearing at the fabric.

_'There hadn't been any other way.' _He repeated the sentence like a mantra as Q's body shook and trembled and the guilt was eating a hole in his chest with every scream he heard and wished he wouldn't.

Slowly the screams ceased and were replaced by short gasps that sounded more like sobs than breaths.

The seizures died down and Q went limp in his arms. Worried James looked up at Q's face.

His skin was a ghostly pale, damp with sweat and tears, glassy eyes wide open, the pupils small pinpoints, focussed on a point somewhere above James' head.

"It's burning," he whispered, voice hoarse from the previous screaming. "Everything is burning."

"Q," Bond adjuredhim pleadingly, shaking him by his shoulders, trying to snap him out of whatever hallucinations he was seeing.

It seemed to work, because Q's eyes flickered towards him.

"They're all dead," he murmured before slumping forward, burying his face in James' shoulder.

James held him as the tears soaked through his shirt.

A/N: Reviews warm my heart!


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